Waiting
by TerrifyingTermite
Summary: Max is doing what Max does best: thinking... and waiting. Haha, right?
1. Chapter One

**Welcome back! Two-shot this time. For NaNo. I got too impatient and didn't want to wait until the end of November to start posting... no, this is not my 50k. Only part of it, but here you go! (and yes, I find it awkward when trying to think of something to say. xP**

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><p>Maximum Ride sat on her roof thinking. Yes, she was thinking. Shocker. However, thirteen years does a lot to a person. You lose your best friend and the love of your life because he's an idiot, and then you spend the next several years lost in a depression. Brilliant. Though by now, at twenty-eight years, she did pride herself on being a <em>bit<em> more controlled than she used to be. And more mature, considering the genes she had that had always made her more mentally advanced than others.

Thinking, yes. In a tangle? Nothing new.

Of course, it was that certain boy she had known who had disturbed her sleep and sent her to find a calmer state of mind. A dream. She hadn't had a dream where he had slinked past the wall in her subconscious in years. And there he had been. Same as it always had been. Young and in his prime- their prime, actually. Young and madly in love.

How things had changed.

Max shivered and bent her wings around to shelter herself from the chilly air. Normally she would have thought more and grabbed a jacket, blanket, or something to shield her, but as usual she wasn't thinking. But wasn't she? Around and around in her mind; where would everything stop?

With a sigh, she propped her arms on her slightly-drawn-in kneed and leaned her forehead on them. She had been fine. So fine. Everything had been going slowly, and nothing had phased her. Nothing. They were good. She remembered nothing, and he brought up nothing. It was banished, forbidden. To think she had actually considered that she was finally past it. It would never come back; that part of her past was gone for good.

Unfortunately, she was wrong. That wasn't new, but it was still as unwanted as ever, especially considering the circumstances. She was fine with being wrong other times, but this time? Not so easily accepted. Definitely not.

Stupid of her to think she could escape it. Somehow, she knew it would haunt her for eternity. It would always be the ghost of his love- knowing that he could have done better. She had tried. Oh, had she tried. But he had eluded her. And as soon as she had managed to come to grips with that, she had settled down, as they labeled it. Settled down? She had been hiding. Hiding fromt he world, hiding from the taunting bitterness of reality.

Then once she finally tried to emerge from her hole of self-loathing, everything had changed again. It was finally _right_. She was right. He was right. Everything was back in place like it should have been with him. Though it was different, it was the way it should have always been before. Oh sure, she still struggled with the memories and pain of abandonment, but they all had been there to help. Especially...

The familiar sting of tears permeated her cloud of melancholic thoughts. Well, it _had_ been fine... until tonight. Until the well-known torment. And it had to be tonight of all nights. Tonight. This time. Nothing could have been worse, and she hated it. Hated it. Wished she could rewind time. But time moves on... on and on and on, never giving her a change to catch her breath until something else slammed into her face and sent her spinning. Spiraling back down, so down.

Arms encircled the cocoon she had created with her wings. She stiffened impulsively, then gritted her teeth, ashamed of her tears. She would only hurt him more.

"Max," Dylan sang quietly in her ear, sleep filling his voice. He tugged her backwards gently until she was tucked against his chest and wrapped in another layer of feathers. "Max, what's wrong?"

She shook her head and willed the tracks of tears to melt into her face. If she spoke, she would betray herself immediately. She _couldn't_ hurt him more. So all she did was close her eyes and let her head drop back against his shoulder. It was no use; she knew he could tell.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she whispered, shivering as a bit of the breeze filtered down into her shelter. "I just needed to think."

"Mhm."

Dylan rubbed his head against hers, trying to distill some sense of security to her. She had thought she had the ability to hide from him; to lock away her innermost ponderings. She always had. And he had always humored her, though his own heart ached for her to realise the truth, and that he didn't hold anything against her. How could he? She was Max.

At least now she didn't try to pretend. Oh, she still tried to hide when she wept, but he still knew. She would try to cover it up with makeup, and she never wore makeup unless she had been crying or if they were going to a wedding. He thought she knew, but then he couldn't always quite read her. Genetically engineered as he was to her, he was still a man, and she was a woman.

He just wished she would consistently let him look into her, and empathise with her. Help her, even. But her want to be so incredibly strong often left her at her weakest, though she would never admit it. Some things never will change about a person.

Dylan stroked her wings. Her gorgeous, powerful wings. It helped her to relax- sometimes. He could only hope if would work this time.

Her spine stiffened again, and he knew she was trying to resist. If she could remain detached and in control, she would. But she couldn't. Not always. She had to start learning. Well, she had been. Then her emotions had been thrown out of whack again. Hopefully they would settle soon, but not until after-

"I had a dream," she whispered, letting herself slump into his embrace, defeated.

He held back a sigh and remained calm, continuing to massage her cramped joints, hoping and praying she would let him in.

"He... he was in it."

Too much. His hands froze. His breath caught. "It's been... years."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, straightening up again. "I shouldn't have bo-"

"No, Max, you should. Please." Dylan tightened his arms, drawing her back even though she resisted. "Tell me. You need to."

"Every memory of you... and me," she moaned, covering her face with her hands. "Every important one. All of them."

He let her mutter to herself for a minute, even though he was wishing she would simply out with it. His beautiful, bruised angel.

"Except..." her heart rate increased.

He could almost see it thudding in her chest, and with every pulse he felt echoed into his own heart. And it hurt. Of course it hurt; he knew it would if she had been so upset. And she hadn't even told him yet.

"He was you. It was like a rewind, except everything was changed. Different. With _him._" She began to cry again. "I'm so sorry."

He pressed his forhead to the back of her head, trying not to let it get to him. He couldn't. She needed him. "Max-"

"I don't get it. I was finally alright. I've _been_ alright, Dylan, you know I have!"

"I know... I know."

She drew in a haggard breath and sighed it right back out again. "It was a nightmare, believe me." Max wrapped her arms loosely around her stomach, rubbing it. "I'm sorry."

"I know, Max."

She twisted around so she could see his face. Pain was etched clearly; even as he tried to control his expression it fell.

Still, he met her eyes and managed a shaky smile. "You know what I've told you. He meant so much to you."

"I've got you now," she whispered, staring in shame down at the glittering ring on her finger. "Yes I still can't seem to do anything to help that."

"You're not to blame. You're tired, stressed, and you haven't been able to eat, remember?" He inhaled deeply. "You're not yourself, and you know that."

"Still..." She sighed, and continued to stare glumly down at her wedding ring. It was simple, really... she liked simple. However, Dylan had insisted on getting some diamond shavings worked onto the metal to make it sparkle. _"To match your eyes," _he had winked as he had presented it to her. Her wings had folded.

A hint of a smile crept onto her face, and he took that as a sign she would be fine. "What did you eat earlier?"

Immediately she pushed back and crossed her arms. "Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you," she sniffed indignantly, a crooked smile turning her lips up.

Dylan grinned back, then leaned forward to steal a kiss before standing up. "You're forgiven. Try not to think about it?"

Her smile disappeared, and she nodded, serious again. "I'll try," she sighed, shrugging. She always did. And she would get over it.

He smiled once again, then brushed the back of his hand to her face, watching her flinch as the chilled metal of his wedding ring rubbed across her skin. She was lovely even then.

Max watched as her husband disappeared back into their house; no doubt he was asleep again as soon as he hit the pillow. He worked too hard, but he did it for. Especially since she had been too weak to do much for a few months. At least that period had passed; though she still grew sick occasionally it was not to the point of her not being able to get out of bed. And dear Dylan... he had borne it all like a saint.

She shifted her position, then drew her knees up again, resuming her position she had held before Dylan had interrupted her study. She was bi-polar. Must be. Because now she didn't feel as disloyal... though her heart drooped a bit as she recalled the memory. But no; she musn't think of it, or she would too easily slip back into her old train of thought. No, better to look forward, even though she hated waiting.

But wait she must. And wait... and wait. At least the Flock were scheduled for a visit soon. She could tell them. They would help her pass the time. They could speak of old times; reintroduce each other to the lives they now lived separately, and catch up on what had been playing out in their own stories.

For that's what life was. A story. A beginning, middle, and end. However, it was the waiting between each step of the plot that was horrible enough to drive anybody mad; especially a hormonal bird-woman. They were the worst, as Dylan cheerfully reminded her daily. So cheery. Always so cheery.

"Uuh," Max groaned, her thoughts put to a halt once more as she focused on the pain at hand. That had hurt. How long did she have to wait, again? No matter... it was too late to worry about anything anymore... she was tired. Knowing her husband, he would wake up again anyway, somehow sensing she still had not gone to bed. Annoying. Affectionate. Awesome?

That's it. Alliteration? Her mind was halfway to China. Hopefully it would make it there and then return in time for a new day... right now, she didn't care. Time for bed.

Max stood to her feet and wrapped her arms underneath her rounding stomach, supporting the exta weight as she spread out her wings to keep her balance. With a hop and some flaps, she was back on earth in front of their bedroom window. She glanced inside as she clambered in, mindful of her middle. As she had guessed, Dylan was sprawled out sound asleep.

She stepped around to the far side of the bed and managed to manuver herself back onto the matress. And as if she had pressed a switch, Dylan reached over for her. She smiled as her heart swelled, thoughts of Fang long gone. Looping her hand into his, Max cradled her stomach with her other arm and closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter Two

**Hello, hello, hello! Funny how one gets these random phrases in one's head, but one can't remember where they came from... hmm... These mysteries in life. Anyway, I won't babble and try to be funny. It never works. Soo thank you Sylvanna and Jessie; you guys made my day. ^_^ Here we go: part two!**

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><p>Max laid in bed, trying to settle her racing heart. She needed air. But she couldn't breathe. Nor could she summon the strength to get up from her reclined position and fly up to the roof. Even if she could rise somehow, it was doubtful she would even be able to make the height. Too much pain...<p>

She was scared. It was strange; she hadn't been so scared in so many years. Yet here she was: the indomitable Maximum Ride, lying in bed next to her husband, trembling with fear. Very strange. Nothing she was used to. She couldn't make it stop. She couldn't move.

Her heart skipped another beat when another band of pain clamped down. She had to do something. But she couldn't. She tried. Somehow, she managed to weakly turn her head to stare at Dylan, willing him to wake up. To hear her. Somehow. Please?

A whimper broke the silence. Her own. It must have been. Dylan didn't talk in his sleep; and on the rare occasion he had a nightmare he _never_ whimpered. A manly groan, maybe, but a whimper? Wait, manly groan? What was she thinking? Oh dear... here she went again. Around. And around. Everything had been spinning for so long. She couldn't make it stop.

A croak. His name? _Please wake up._ "Dylan..."

He stirred, but then merely rolled over, his back now to her. "Oh, Dylan," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, wishing it would all go away.

Her breath got stuck in her throat as it came again. She moaned, doubling over and burrowing down into the sheet. Oh, no... faster now. It was sooner. She whimpered again.

"Max?" Groggy eyes peered down at her.

"Dylan... it hurts."

Hours later. Hours, or minutes? She had lost all perception of time. IT had vanished. It was so quick; and then it was an eternity. On and on, then spinning around so quickly she thought she might faint. The planets whirled by. Planets? No, it was too white. There was that smell again. Calm down!

Three people were moving around her. Her mother, Ella, and Jeb. All doing something. For her. She couldn't remember what. The drugs had muddled her mind. At least it wasn't Valium. For a reason she couldn't recall, Valium would have been bad. Very bad. Love? Something about love... must have been him... she loved him...

Pain pierced through the fog, as did voices giving her commands. She tried to obey; but the minutes had dragged into hours, right? She was tired. Weak. She was trying... couldn't they see that? Any relief at all would have put her into such a state of ecstasy she had never known. Or would ever know, for that matter. It would have been so good... but never mind. No use wishing. She had pleaded earlier, hadn't she? To no avail. Nothing they could do... nothing, unfortunately.

Her heart rate quickened as she felt more movement with the pain. Almost there... instinct told her so. Gut instinct. What gut? It was being ripped out of her stomach. At least it felt like it. It hurt, so it must be. Gone. What would she do without a gut?

Wait, she was losing it. Finally losing it. Took long enough, honestly. Anyone would have thought she would have been long gone, but not. She was here... mostly. Her mind was gone now. It must be the drugs. She couldn't even think in a straight line anymore. The white was blinding, and the smell... the smell was making her sick. She didn't know why, just that it should so it was.

A calming voice echoed through her skull. Her empty, pounding skull. Always pounding. It had started when Dylan had instantly awoken. Awoken? Awaken. Think. Think... awaken. Who had awaken? Dylan... that's when the head ache had started. When he had awaken from sleep and rushed around, making her dizzy. Chattering on the phone like a squirrel. Must have been her mother. Must have been... then he had grabbed her, managed to make her look decent... Decent? She was a nightmare at the moment. Nothing decent.

Max wearily lifted her head and squinted against the pure, blinding white. Lights. Lights and too much blinding decor. Jeb rested a hand on her knee and squeezed. Reassuring, at least supposed to be, but it was only another discomfort. She didn't need that. She blinked, and he was gone.

Ella was at her other side, trying to speak to her. She answered, didn't she? Or was that another voice, coming from the wall? Her mother? No, it must be her, because Ella laughed. Ella had laughed earlier when Max had muttered something to her. She couldn't remember what it was then, and right now it had to be the drugs talking. Maybe the drugs were the Voice. Too many voices...

She hissed out a breath, her heart rate increasing. A keening wail echoed throughout the room. Her own? Yes, yes it was... what was she doing? Why was she screaming? It was if her mind was detached from her body, leaving the rest of her to function as it should. Screaming came along with agonizing pain, did it not? So she was screaming. That was as it should. Should be. Grammar... at a time like this?

She wished he was here. He could help her; he always had. He had always been by her side. Through everything. Every hurt, and every victory. He had been there. His beautiful eyes... so beautiful. Always drawing her in and giving her such a deep level of comfort. Never failing to reassure. Flying and running away like they had done so many time. Yes, he had helped. He could help now. Where was he? Gone away... why was he gone away?

More excited tones from the others. Interupting her. She hated to be interrupted... What had she been about? That's right... him. His deep, passionate love for her, even when she was angry with him. And she always had been. They had argued so much... yet ultimately, it had never changed anything. Two bird kids, off to... to what? Something important. Must have been important. She didn't like doing things unless they were important.

Chocolate chip cookies? No, she must be imagining things. The smell... so real. Yet it couldn't be. Ovens in a hospital? Vet's office, not a hospital. Vet. Her mother, yes? Yes. Her mother the vet, and Ella who knew so much. And Jeb the white coat. So he must know some.

They had eaten cookies together. So many times. She had even tried to bake some her own self, but those hadn't turned out right. Too brown. Black, actually. Black and burnt. He had laughed, but then he had eaten the whole batch. She thought he had gotten sick. He denied it. Must have, cause he didn't eat for three days. Not good for mutants.

No, she wasn't a mutant. He had said that often. Special. She felt like a mutant, though. Like her body was being changed, ripped apart and put back together. Like an experiment. She was an experiement. He was a break through. Perfectly a break through. So beautiful...

Where was he? She needed him. Why had he gone away? Tears were dripping. He would wipe them away. He had before. He would do it again. He would hurt with her in his own silent way. She wanted him. So much pain... it should be over by now. Must be over. She wouldn't be able to hold on longer. More pain. More screams. Again... and again...

Dylan paced, and paced some more. He had been dreaming before Max had woken him up. It was a lovely dream, too. A dream of the future, of what life would be like after this. So much joy and happiness; one could almost burst. It had been so nice, and then she had woken him up. And here he was, sitting in cold reality, having to listen to what was going on without really knowing. It had been over an hour since Ella or Jeb had come out to update him. Five from the time Max had woken him up.

Poor Max. He winced; she had screamed again. It was unusual, Ella had said. Partially because of the way their bodies were designed. Not impossible, just unusual. Also extremely painful, if he was correct. Which... He winced; she had screamed again. Yes, he was right. Extremely painful. And there was nothing he could do.

How he wished there was. It was mind bending how insane a person could get from waiting. Especially from waiting this long. It had been an eternity; he could only hope in Max's drugged state that time was moving faster. Hopefully. The poor woman did need any more torture in her life.

It wasn't really torture, though... they had made the decision before they were married to not worry about what would happen. So here they were.

It had been silent for several minutes. Too silent. He strode over to the door, his wings trembling, as he strained to see in. He could hear them murmuring, but it blending in with the hum of the machines and was lost to him. They were also around a corner. He could see well, but he couldn't see through solid mass.

With a groan, he raked his hands through his hair, then gripped it tightly and pulled. He was mad. Absolutely mad. Crazy. Senile. Anything worked. All one had to do was be a thesaurus and provide enough synonyms to keep him occupied. For any length of time. He needed _something _to do. He was almost crazy enough to go barging in and demand to know what was happening, but he didn't want Dr. Martinez to tar him. He was already feathered, so all he needed was tar... tar and feathers. Hah. Humor? Everything was lost to him.

The door open. He whirled around and lunged forward, only to be stopped by Ella's raised hand. "How is she?" he pleaded, working his fingers back into his hair.

Ella held back a smile at the man's appearance. Disheveled had taken on an entire new meaning. If only she had a camera... "She's fine. She's started talking to herself and ignoring us, though... hopefully she's listening. The combination of drugs we gave her fogged her mind a bit; she's in less pain than she would be."

"How long?" He dropped his hands and twisted them into his pockets. "I've been waiting for hours."

"I know; we all have." Ella frowned. "My mother is a veterinarian, Dylan. She could dissect a turtle in her sleep. She also has enough knowledge of normal medical experience to know what to do. Of course, Jeb is a professional. However, things are a bit different when one tries to mix the two together... neither of them know how long it will be."

"At least you've had something to do..." he muttered, crossing his arms and resuming pacing. "I've just been sitting out here twiddling my thumbs and putting a track on the floor. Give me something, Ella, or I'll jump off a cliff."

"Why don't you call the rest of the Flock? They're going to want to be here anyway."

Dylan paused mid-step, letting his shoulders droop."Listening to Nudge would be better than this..."

After another hour, Dylan had finally managed to get through speaking with the other members of the Flock, minus one. Nudge had chattered for half an hour while she packed, and Dylan had finally lied saying he thought he heard someone coming. She had squealed, making his head start aching again, and then had disconnected the call. They would all be together again within the week.

Now... he was right back where he started. Sitting. Waiting. Wishing his ears weren't good enough to hear Max's every cry of pain. It wasn't her fault; he could leave. But he couldn't. He couldn't do that to her; he needed to be here the moment she needed him.

Her cries had escalated to screaming, and Dylan's breath caught in his throat. She was screaming a name. _His _name. The seconds dragged on, and minutes ticked by. Still she screamed. And screamed, and screamed.

And then something else wailed. A much higher pitched, hoarse cry that sent a shiver down his spine. He was at the door and through it before Ella was able to take two steps in its direction. No matter. Dylan stared down at his wife. His beautiful, brave Max who had finally stopped screaming... though another one still rang in his ears.

He shifted his gaze, and it was as if the entire world stood still. Ella was hovering nearby with wet cloths, doing something. Jeb was patting him on the shoulder. He stepped forward and peered over Dr. Martinez's shoulder. Before he knew it, he had begun to cry.

Time had flown. It had been one hour, maybe two, and after Dr. Martinez and Jeb had checked the baby over, Max had needed their full attention, so they had relinquished care of the baby to Dylan.

So here he was, in a world of his own, cradling his son in his arms. His _son._ A miracle. Their miracle. His incredible son. There were only three other days that could match the sheer joy of this one. The first day he laid eyes on his Max. The day he had knelt in front of her with a diamond. And the day of their wedding.

Now, the birth of their son. Dylan snuggled the baby closer to his shoulder and inhaled deeply. Already the soapy, clean smell had faded into the precious aroma of an infant. His infant son, only two hours from his mother's womb, and already he was perfect. Every toe and eyelash in place; nothing could have been better.

Except for one thing.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He had always wondered what it would be like to hear Max scream for him by name. To hear it when she was in danger, and her only hope was his rescue. When all she needed was his help to pull her through... what it would be like to hear her calling for him. And she had been screaming; oh, she had been screaming. Now...

His son whimpered in his sleep, breaking Dylan from his thoughts. He rocked the baby gently and lovingly kissed his forehead, watching in awe as a yawn stretched his son's mouth wide. Such a precious, dear sight. Even a yawn. With another noise, he was fast asleep again.

Dylan smiled and retraced his thoughts a bit, recalling what he had been mulling over. The door was opened, and he could hear Max calling to him again. _Again_.

...Now he knew.

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><p><strong>*applauds self*<strong> **Yaay another short fic to break the hearts of Fax lovers. (which should be myself. O.o) I hope you enjoyed it; it's somewhat related to 'Time Moves On', so if you haven't read that one then you should. Shameless self-plugging. Ah well.** ;)


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